Baby Doc Duvalier “Just Chillin’ Out” in Gobsmacked Haiti

Port-au-Prince – “Who wouldn’t want to spend more time in Haiti?” asked Jean-Claude ‘Baby Doc’ Duvalier in surprise as he stepped carefully through the rubble of this earthquake and violence-struck island in his shorts and sandals, breathing in the salty air with a satisfied grin.

“I grew up here, you know, I have very fond memories of this place,” he explained, looking nostalgically at the shanty dwellings of his people.

A relaxed Baby Doc waves to some of the people he let live during his reign of terror.

A relaxed Baby Doc waves to some of the people he let live during his reign of terror.

“My God, this place hasn’t changed a bit,” he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief as he saw the recently destroyed remains of a house he had once burned down himself back in the 1980s.

Duvalier, the son of feared Haitian dictator Francois ‘Papa Doc’ Duvalier, came to power in Haiti at the age of just 19 when his father died in 1971. Recognising that he had big shoes to fill, Duvalier tried his best to emulate his legendary father’s record of mass killings, corruption, and embezzlement by killing tens of thousands of people and then fleeing the impoverished country in 1986 with over $300 million in State funds.

Duvalier suddenly returned to Haiti last week, with no explanation as to why.

“I’m just chillin’ with my homeboys,” said Duvalier simply as he waved to neighbours staring at him with gaping, open-mouthed astonishment.

"Just like it used to be when I ran this town," recalled Baby Doc nostalgically.

"Just like it used to be when I ran this town," recalled Baby Doc nostalgically.

“Hey, y’all, how you doin’? What’s happenin’?” he asked casually, reaching out to clasp the hand of a man with one leg who just stared back at him in slack-jawed bewilderment.

“Yes, sir, it is a fine day today!” enthused Baby Doc to some gobsmacked locals who had simply stopped in the middle of scavenging a local rubbish dump and looked dumbfounded at their former dictator suddenly once more in their midst.

“The slum dwellers were never very bright,” whispered Duvalier confidentially. “It’s the malnutrition, I think. It always took them ages to do what I said back in the 1970s.”

“Of course, back then I had my Tonton Macoutes to prod them into action,” he added. “Now those were a bunch of men who knew how to get things done.”

“Any time of day or night, if I wanted to throw a big orgy in my palace with some beautiful women, those boys would go out and come back with a dozen girls who were willing to do anything,” said Duvalier with a raucous laugh.

"Of course, I was voted world's best looking playboy dictator in 1978," said Baby Doc proudly.

"Of course, I was voted world's best looking playboy dictator in 1978," said Baby Doc proudly.

“I don’t know how they were able to persuade them all so quickly, but then Haiti is a very friendly and obliging place.”

As he walked through the streets of his old hometown, with a growing mob of Haitians following him while weaving some kind of circular design out of old pieces of rope, Baby Doc became more and more nostalgic.

“I really should try to get back here more often,” he said, a tear in his eye as he heard the distant sound of explosions. “You know, just to chill out a bit, see the slums, smell the cholera-riddled air, hear the guns chattering in the early morning hours, catch up with the people I once terrorised, you know?”

Passing a woman with four children, Baby Doc suddenly broke into a huge grin. “Juliette, is that you? Woah, girl, how you been?” he asked, as the woman turned pale and staggered backwards like she’d been hit in the stomach. “It’s me, baby! You remember the wild times we had together up in the palace, when my boys would bring you and your sisters round and we’d play ‘Who’s Baby Doc’s favourite tonight?’”

“So you got kids, now? You married? Hey, if not, give me a call. I’m staying at the hotel,” said Baby Doc, scribbling his number on a piece of paper and handing it to the woman, who had curled into a foetal ball and lay with shaking shoulders in the dust.

Haitians rush to greet the unprotected former tyrannical dictator.

Haitians rush to greet the unprotected former tyrannical dictator.

“Man, I wouldn’t mind hitting that again,” said Baby Doc with a low whistle.

While the trailing mob finished its rope design, a long cord with a ring at the end, and began to move purposefully after the former dictator, Baby Doc sighed happily as he looked down on the ruins of his homeland.

“God, I love this place and its people,” he exclaimed, waving a hand at the shattered city sprawled before him.

“It’s the homecoming I always dreamed of but never dared hope for,” he said with a tear as he turned to welcome the mob charging joyfully towards him.

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